Polly

As I trudged across the parking lot to the church entrance, a drizzling rain that had sputtered on and off throughout the day became a downpour. It did not bother me, because it camouflaged tears that I could no longer hold back. By the time I reached the heavy wooden doors, I thought I had cried my last tear.

Entering the church on that sad, rainy afternoon, I was awed by the sight of hundreds of people who had come to pay their last respects. The church seemed to groan under the weight of so many people, who spilled out of the pews into the aisles and crowded the standing room in the back. Despite our numbers, a somber silence spoke to our purpose—to honor and celebrate the life of a woman who had touched each of us.

Polly was a remarkable woman and a gifted conductor. I have fond memories of her taking the choir through difficult passages time and again until she could coax just the right emotion out of our voices. Never compromising her artistic vision, she held us to a very high standard and never settled for anything less than our best. Her toughness led us to discover abilities and talents within ourselves that we never dreamt were there.

While I sat silently sobbing, overcome with grief and only half listening to the services, a greater sorrow engulfed me. Before, I wept for myself and my sense of loss, but now I wept for those unlucky people who would never benefit from her wisdom and would never have the joy of knowing her and having their lives touched by such an incredible spirit.

Fighting through my grief, I joined in singing the hymns and songs that she cherished most. Though I had sung them dozens of times before, singing them again in the company of friends and strangers that day gave me great comfort and put me at peace. I realized that although she was gone, her legacy and talent would live on in the hearts of the students and choristers whose lives she had touched.

I count myself extremely lucky to have had the opportunity to learn from her, and I know that her influence has made me a better person. Those years under Polly’s baton are some of my most pleasant and memorable, and the relationships I established while in her choir are some of the best and most solid in my life to this day.

As the service came to an end, the rain gave a final surge and came to a stop. The sun began to peek from behind the clouds. Walking out of the church into the bright, clear sunshine, I felt her hand conducting me once again through a difficult passage.